


Day One of the Rings

by fuzipenguin



Series: Kinktober 2020 [3]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Blood and Injury, Established Relationship, Gladiators, M/M, Other, Public Sex, Slavery, Twincest, sex slaves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 18:48:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29845884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzipenguin/pseuds/fuzipenguin
Summary: It wasn't supposed to be like this. They were supposed to finally have control of their own frames.
Relationships: Sideswipe/Sunstreaker (Transformers)
Series: Kinktober 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2194158
Comments: 6
Kudos: 26





	Day One of the Rings

**Author's Note:**

> 3\. First Time

Everything burns.

The slashes across his back from the electrowhip… the explosive collar strangling his neck… the polluted energon pumping through his lines… and every thrust of Sunstreaker’s spike into his valve.

The crowd jeers at them, throwing out trash and rude suggestions alike. Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if it had been a small room full of people, but there are thousands in the gladiator arena.

And Sunstreaker hates to be the center of attention just because he’s pretty.

It was supposed to be different here than the brothel. They were supposed to fight… not frag as an appetizer for the main event. Sunstreaker is alternatively furious and humiliated and he’s rushing: hard, fast thrusts meant to get himself off as soon as possible.

His hand strips Sideswipe’s own spike, the unlubricated friction making his frame shudder. The spectators might see it as a shiver of pleasure, but that couldn’t be more from the truth. He’s just as angry, but it’s a muted sort of resignation now, a depression he feels himself sinking into to protect his processor from the truth of it all.

Sunstreaker grips Sideswipe’s hip tighter and his hand feels like it would be a blur if Sideswipe chose to open his optics and look. They’re both close to overloading; not because either of them wants to, but because they’ve been trained to, practically on command.

It was one of the first tricks they picked up shortly after getting their youngling frames.

Sideswipe barely registers his climax as it is pulled out of him. The sensation of Sunstreaker overloading on his back is distant, like something out of a barely remembered dream. The sound of the crowd becomes progressively more muffled and when he’s jerked to his feet, he follows along blindly, still not opening his optics. It’s Sunstreaker leading him anyhow. He’d make sure they were both safe.

Things become quieter, the air around them gradually staler. Their steps slow and then stop, Sideswipe’s frame shoved into a corner. Another body presses against his front, but now it no longer burns. Instead, it’s a welcome coolness and Sideswipe sags against it in relief.

“It’s over… Sideswipe, it’s over. Look at me.”

Sideswipe fights to obey and finally he cracks too heavy optic shutters to look at his twin. Sunstreaker’s overall expression is still tight with anger, but the edges are softened with concern.

“I’m sorry… I was too rough,” Sunstreaker says, glancing down between them. Sideswipe feels a trickle of something seep out of his valve and remembers Sunstreaker had overloaded on his aft, not inside him.

It’s not the first time he’s bled during an interface, even with his twin. Sideswipe shrugs dismissively. “… it’s ok.”

Sunstreaker’s expression crumples and he surges forward to embrace Sideswipe with a sob. “It’s not. Nothing is ok.”

Deep inside Sideswipe, something twinges to life and he lifts his arms, threading them around his twin’s waist. “We’re together,” he whispers, surfacing enough from his fugue state to give his brother the reassurance he is desperately seeking.

“We’re together and nothing else matters.”

~end


End file.
